


Business with Pleasure

by bendy_quill



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Desk Sex, F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6064111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bendy_quill/pseuds/bendy_quill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair is a tease and Madeleine is okay with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Business with Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by a very nice gif and had to write this down. You can find it here [here](https://erotismo-italiano.tumblr.com/post/124077997289/)!! If you want to know more about Madeleine, come check out my writing blog at [bendy-quill.tumblr.com](http://bendy-quill.tumblr.com/)!

Alistair is a gift, Maker damn what anyone else says.

It hardly seems fair to compare him to the slew of other lovers she’s had in her life, but when she thinks about what some of them were willing to do for her in his place, he’s got them beat by miles.

Some of her lovers were sweet— brought her gifts and told her how wonderful she was. She believed them then, knew their words were sincere and treated them in kind, or knew they were full of shit and promptly pushed them to the side when she saw through them.

Some of her lovers were playful— surprising her with erotic prospects when she least expected them. She would slip away during expensive dinner parties, gleefully locking other party goers out of the bathroom while she touched and kissed and teased her lover for as long as time would grant her.

Every lover was different and cared for her in their own special ways. Alistair is the absolute best, though he tends to bring out the worst in her when he’s on a mission.

He showed up about an hour ago with flowers in his hand and a cheeky grin on his face. She’s been buried in work for these past few weeks, often crashing on their couch before she has the chance to even make it to the bed. Alistair has been so considerate of her needs with kind reassurance and unerring support of the hard work she’s been doing. He knows that her work matters a great deal to her.

But even still, he misses her terribly. His long stares and dejected sighs don’t go unnoticed by her. Communication between them has been limited to heartfelt texts and occasional short videos. She wants nothing more than to spend time with him, to be held in his arms and lavished with affection—

And it brings her no greater comfort to know that he felt the same, although, she never expected him to saunter into her office like _this_.

“Fuck!” she bites through gritted teeth. Her fingers tweak her nipples harder, hips riding the slide of his tongue on her wet cunt. His lips close around her pearl and she bites her lip, guttural moan rumbling through her body with each gentle pull of soft skin. He’s doing it just as she showed him— long strokes touching every inch of her that he can, one hand sliding along parted thighs and stroking her stomach, and humming when his tongue touches her pearl.

Madeleine tilts her head and stares at him, watches his ginger head shift within the apex of her brown thighs for every eager lick and pleased hum he delivers. She weaves her fingers through his hair, feels the steady bob of his head and palms her breast to his rhythm with a heavy sigh. He’s so focused on the task at hand, warm hazel eyes glancing up and watching every sensual shift of her face.

“Look at you,” she whispers, throat hitching on a small moan, “you look so nice down there, taking your fill, _devouring me_ to your heart’s content.” She tilts her head, tongue sliding across her lips, and sees a bit of tawny skin just peeking out the top of his jeans. His free hand is in his lap, steadily rising and falling in a jerking motion, and she smiles.

Her grip tightens in his hair and she holds him still between her legs, glazed eyes still rapt to her face. His tongue delves deeper, breaches her nether lips and dips into her cunt to tease her, and then passes over her pearl with a pleasant heat coursing through her achy body. She rests one foot against her desk, thighs slightly quivering, heavy breaths rolling through the hot air between them. His shoulder bumps faster against her thigh the higher her voice rises, pleased moans turning deep and guttural as her hips gently jerk against his tongue.

She has never done anything like this— sitting at her desk with her head tossed back, skirt hitched around her waist, panties completely gone, and desperately chasing her lover’s touch with each shaky breath she takes. Her body is so warm, thrums with pleasure as he works her so sweetly, yet still she never thought he would be so daring— boldly swaggering through her door, and seducing her with his charming wit and cheeky smile. Madeleine does a lot to him already; bonds, toys, gentle guidance when she’s feeling sweet, or rough direction when he especially needs it, and he is always so eager to take his fill of heady pleasure.

Even still, this is new, _very new_ , and she doesn’t mind it one bit.  

“ _Oh_ , _Alistair_ …” she whines, fingers tugging sharply at her nipple as his lips close around her bud again, sucking and pulling at her sensitive flesh, “Oh, Maker, _yes_!”

Madeleine lifts her head, throaty moan rising in her chest, and sees the door crack open.

Her heart stops and she moves quickly, both hands scramble to pull her shirt closed, and she leans up and pushes her chair further into her desk, forcing Alistair to stop and wedge himself in the small space underneath. Madeleine runs a hand through her hair, flattening any loose curls that cling to her damp forehead and she puts on her best smile as Teagan Guerrin walks through her door.

“Teagan!” she exclaims. “What a pleasant surprise!”

“Good afternoon, Ms. Cousland!” A sheepish smile spreads across his face as he approaches. “I am sorry to drop by so suddenly,” he sits in the chair right across from her, “but I need to speak with you for just a brief moment.”

She nods her head. “I should hope nothing is the wrong to warrant such a hurried meeting…”

“No, no! Nothing like that!” He clears his throat, eyes rapidly darting between her and any empty space he can find. “I— Eamon sent me here. He’s been having trouble getting in touch with Alistair as of late and he was hoping that you—”

“Here we go.”

Teagan sighs, “—might be able to get in touch with him and let him know that his uncle is looking for him.”

She has half a mind to tell him to leave right now, but she does like Teagan and doesn’t mind his company at all. Eamon, on the other hand, is a right piece of work.

The Guerrins are well connected— not the most powerful family in Ferelden compared to the Couslands, but still, they’ve held great influence since Rowan’s marriage to Maric Theirin all those years ago. Madeleine has nothing against their desire to elevate themselves whatsoever, her own family did the same through years of hard work and determination, but Eamon’s plan to use Alistair as that stepping stone angers her a great deal. Maric abandoned him when he was but a mere boy, left him in the care of Eamon only for the man to turn him out of his home as well. Now, with the untimely death of Cailan, Eamon suddenly wants to make amends and seek Alistair out.

While she has her own reservations about Eamon, Alistair cares for him a great deal, and she won’t take that away from him. Still, Alistair has made it abundantly clear that he wants nothing to do with the Theirin name or any such inheritances that may come from wielding such a hefty title.

She respects that he knows what he wants, that he is assertive of his desire to stay away from the mess Maric left behind. Eamon has been trying his hardest to convince Alistair to take over the Theirin name and business, but he— they have stood strong in the face of such pressure.

Madeleine rests her chin on her palm with her icy gaze focused on Teagan, making the man shift in his seat. “I thought we’ve had this conversation before, Tegan.”

“Yes, well—”

“Alistair,” she reaches down and runs her hand through his hair, “has made it expressly clear that he has no desire to step into the Theirin family. If Eamon wishes to speak with him again, then that’s up to him, and I will not be used as a mouthpiece to manipulate Alistair into doing anything he doesn’t want.” Alistair slides his hands along the top of her thighs and she shudders, remembering the positively sinful things he was doing to her earlier. “And frankly Teagan, I find it a bit insulting that Eamon would have the gall to send you to _my_ office. I am not his errand girl and I will not act as one simply because he demands it.”

Teagan stares at her for a while, mouth opening and shutting as he gathers his thoughts. Alistair’s hands slide back down her legs, gently stroking her calves and feet, thumbs passing over the dark leather of her sharp heels. He licks once up her cunt, has her gasping and grabbing the armrests of her chair, but she quickly covers the sound with a short cough.

“Ms. Cousland,” Teagan starts, “Madeleine, please, listen to me.” Teagan leans forward and rests his arms on her desk. At the same time, Alistair licks up her cunt again and teases her pearl with the very tip of his tongue, making her lift a hand to her mouth to stifle her moan. “I understand that things haven’t been— ideal between Eamon and Alistair, but it’s very important that we speak with him about his inheritance.”

Madeleine shuts her eyes for a moment— to Teagan, she is trying to keep her disgust in check, which is nothing new to him. But in truth, Alistair’s hands are resting on her thighs, holding her open as he lavishes her throbbing heat with that talented tongue of his. She fights to keep herself from rolling her hips into his touch, debates whether she should throw Teagan out or let him sit there as Alistair brings her closer to the edge. It’s thrilling in a way, knowing that Teagan has no idea that the person he’s looking for sits on his knees under her desk, teasing her with mouth, lips, and tongue, and caring for nothing more than her pleasure.

She rubs her hand down her face as she tries to focus on the man before her— in the chair, definitely the one in the chair.

“Teagan, I understand that it’s important to Eamon that he speaks with Alistair, but— _ah_...”

Her moan is loud, hitches in her throat and she coughs as loud as she can to cover it. Teagan’s brows furrow and he tilts his head.

“Are you feeling well, Ms. Cousland?” he asks.

Madeleine flicks her eyes down, sees his hazel eyes staring right up at her, lips eagerly sucking and licking her cunt—

And curved up into an _absolutely devious_ smile.

She looks back at Teagan and shakes her head. “I’m fine! Just a little cold— I’ve been meeting with a lot of people and I’m sure that one of them passed something on to m—Eee!”

He’s slipped two fingers into her and she digs her nails into her chair. Damage control, she needs to shut her legs, pull his hair and tell him to stop. But, _Maker_ , she can’t bring herself to do anything but take him. The drag of his fingers is slow and intoxicating, the walls of her cunt practically pull him in, and he crooks his fingers just right to caress deep inside her.

Her legs are splayed open, sweat dusts her forehead with little rivulets trailing down the back of her neck. His lips close around her bud as he slowly pumps his fingers and she bites her lip to cover her desperate whimper.

_You are not alone. Pull yourself together._

Madeleine’s attention comes back to Teagan, who is staring at her with an incredibly concerned look on his face. She puts her hand out when he moves to rise from his seat.

“Actually, I think that— I think that I might have— caught a terrible flu or something! I should probably—” Alistair licks a long line from his fingers to her pearl, sucks the bud into his mouth and laves his tongue over her. She grits her teeth and concentrates as hard as she can. “I should probably— probably go home soon. Listen, Teagan, I know that this— this matters a lot to Eamon, but I won’t get involved in this any further _unh_ — unless Alistair changes his mind.”

Teagan sighs and leans back, still wearing that concerned look on his face, but otherwise resigned with her decision. He sits there for a while, hand rubbing his chin, still none the wiser to the devious ministrations making her squirm and sweat. Finally, Teagan rises from his seat.

“Alright, Madeleine,” he dejectedly sighs, “but still, if you happen to see Alistair, could you at least tell him that Eamon would like to speak to him?”

She waves a hand at him, hips thrusting into Alistair’s face. “I will, but nothing _mm_ — more than that.”

Teagan solemnly nods. “That is all I— _we_ ask of you. Thank you, Ms. Cousland.” He turns on his heel and walks towards her door. “I do hope you get better soon, Madeleine,” he tosses over his shoulder, then slips out the door, shutting it behind him.

Madeleine plants both hands on the armrests of her chair and tosses her head back with a silent cry on her lips. Alistair moans aloud now, vibrations tingling against her sensitive pearl as his fingers slide tantalizingly in and out of her dripping cunt. Her hips chase his rhythm, forward for those pretty lips teasing her bud and back to ride his fingers with his hurried pace.

She cranes her neck and looks at him, sees nothing but the brilliant color of his ginger hair and eyes shut tight as he brings her closer and closer. Her hands reach up and squeeze her breasts tight as his fingers curl into that special spot deep within her and tease her. It’s so hot in her dress shirt that she can feel the sweat sticking to her back and neck. Heat pools in her cunt, warmth spreading along her thighs, then further up to the pit of her belly and she can feel it so close.

“ _Yes_!” she cries out. “Yes, Alistair, _yes_! Just a little— I’m so close— I—”

Something snaps deep within her, legs tense and clap together tight around his head, long and low moan punching its way out of her chest. It burns through her, consumes her and spreads through her body like a powerful brushfire and she rolls her hips to chase the last of her incredible high.

Madeleine comes down slowly, little whimpers spilling from her lips as he works her, trying to draw every bit of pleasure that he can out of her body. She slumps into her chair, shirt clinging tight to her body and panting heavily. Her hand rests on his head, stroking his hair at first then pushing at him when his touch becomes too much.

He leans back, face slick with her essence and licking his lips like he’s just had an exquisite meal. She smiles at him as he rises to his feet.

“You’re a terrible person, Alistair,” she playfully mocks.

He shrugs. “You _loved_ it.”

She laughs at that. “Hush.”

Madeleine pushes him back, seats him on her desk and slides close to him in her chair. She runs her hands along his thighs, feels the coarse denim of his jeans lead to smooth skin and further up, hands slipping under his shirt to feel the hard muscle on his stomach. Her fingers tuck into his jeans and gently slide the garment down his legs to bunch at his ankles.

She flicks her eyes up, watches the bump in his throat bob as he swallows hard. Madeleine leans close, warm breath puffing against the tip of his stiff cock.

“Your turn,” she whispers. She leans in to trail her tongue along the underside of his cock and smiles at the deep groan that rumbles through his body.


End file.
